


Prove to Me That You Love Me

by InvictusO_o



Category: The 100 (TV), The 100 Series - Kass Morgan
Genre: Alpha Bellamy Blake, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Bellamy Blake Loves Clarke Griffin, Bellamy Has Feelings, But Clarke doesn't care, Clarke hates the A/B/O thing, Don't know how slow, Exploitation is bad Children, F/M, Fluff, Jealous Bellamy, Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Omega Clarke Griffin, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pining Bellamy Blake, She just don't like the damn patriarchy, Slow Burn, TA bellamy, Teacher Clarke, When in reality she totally does, mature themes, mentions of abuse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-08
Updated: 2019-10-06
Packaged: 2019-11-14 00:29:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 18,800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18041999
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InvictusO_o/pseuds/InvictusO_o
Summary: A/B/O fic, featuring Omega Clarke and Alpha Bellamy.Clarke doesn't like Alphas...oops?





	1. Bend to No One

Before the apocalypse, there were rumors, whispers, urban legends, old wives’ tales - about the creature that walked the earth alongside humans. It was known that they weren’t that different from humans in appearance. However, this trait of theirs was highly conditional upon one simple thing – the arrival of full moon.

Werewolves were a myth to historians, a horror story to children, a theory possible for further exploration to conspiracy theorists and a cryptid to scientists.

While there were many stories by many people that told of werewolf, there had yet to be concrete evidence found that supported their existence. There was a thesis, there was an antithesis, but to form a synthesis, those slick sons of bitches had to wait for more than two seconds so that someone could take a photograph of them. In other words, their stories, while told to the public by people of the likes ranging from raging drunkards to people looking for publicity to people who might actually qualify to be smart, were still stories.

Until this bitch called a nuclear warfare happened to the world. Radiation spread throughout the globe at the speed of sound due to mass nuclear warfare occurring at multiple places in the world at once.

This was supposed to be it. The end of the world. Judgement Day. The Day the Earth Stood Still. 2012. Stuff like that. Point is, _that_ was supposed to be the end.

But it wasn’t.

You see, to some 7 billion people [(supposedly) (citation required)] that was the end of the world.

But Clarke Griffin knew better. She knew better because that wasn’t the end of the damn world to her.

That was the beginning of her life.

The shittiest beginning anyone could’ve gotten.

Of course, that was debatable. She’d been taught about the various problems that mankind had faced during its “tenure” on earth. Racism, class-ism, regionalism, religion-ism, lingual-ism, sexism, so on and so forth.

 _Damn, they were bad at maintaining peace._ Clarke would often think to herself.

But then she would think of the time she lives in and would scoff and think – _We ain’t doin any better, sista._

The world lost humans to the nuclear apocalypse – True.

All humans died in the nuclear apocalypse – False.

Well, only somewhat.

The apocalypse had wiped out all humans; but that sentence only applied to those that were completely human. Those that were “infected” from being bitten by werewolves had made it.

Had the heightened strength from being a werewolf given them the ability to survive something like a nuclear apocalypse and a deadly radioactive wave? Nah, man. Who are we kidding?

But being a werewolf did save them from dying. They, too, almost died. Those too close to the war did die. But those that were far enough were gravely injured, but their changed genealogy and anatomic and cellular structure actually helped them survive.

Badly burnt, boils covering their bodies, the surviving werewolves when woke up saw the earth burning with their own eyes; fire as wide as the expanse of the ocean; at least as wide as the one that humans could locate visually from land. Watching the world burn before their very eyes, the survivors of the apocalypse began their journey after having their health improved only a short while later. They went in search of food and water. Shelter and clothing could wait. They needed to feed above anything else. Sometimes they were lucky, happening on a still charring carcass of an animal they couldn’t even recognize due to its mangled appearance, having to make do for the sake of nutrition by that point, but sometimes they went without food for days. They needed food, water for survival – but there were questions looming in the heads of the survivors also.

_How the fuck did we survive?_

_And now that we have, how do things change for us?_

_Are we the new "survival of the fittest"?_

_What saved us?_

_How are we different from those who died – except for involuntarily turning into a canine during full moons?_

Such evolutionary questions were answered some centuries later after werewolves too learned a few things about themselves. It was true – pre-apocalyptic period only allowed werewolves to shift involuntarily into their canine counterparts when the whole moon shone brightly above in the dark sky. However, the radiation from the nuclear reactors brought about some chemical imbalances in the bodies of the werewolves thereby effectively changing some things in their existence.

The following were some of the most fundamental changes –

  1. Turning into a werewolf was no longer an involuntary thing. Anybody could turn into their werewolf counterpart anytime they pleased.



         Note: It was frowned upon when they changed whenever, wherever as it offended people that as werewolves they couldn’t keep their “savage” side under control. #fuckinstereotypes.

  1. The radiation and its reaction to the werewolf gene in the human body led to the enhancement of their olfactory senses. It also enhanced their source of production of scent.



         Note: Scenting your mate in public was heavily frowned upon. #Keepitinyourpantskids.

  1. Before there existed only two genders: Male and Female. While gender and gender identification still applied to the existentialist craving of the human part of the public life, they could legally be identified only by their Werewolf Gender.



         Note: Misogyny taking the form of another type of sexism. Term not yet coined due to lack of research. #Areyoufuckingkiddingme

  1. Werewolf Gender were of three types: the Alphas, the Betas, and the Omegas.



         Note: Did you really not see this coming? #Butofcourse.

All three genders pronounced in the society prevalently. However, their pairing was historically comical. Alphas pairing with Alphas lead to an incredibly strong partnership, however, if egos and temper weren’t kept under check, this partnership could burn faster than trees in a forest fire.

An Alpha and a Beta was considered a compatible match – the Alpha acted as the provider of the family, usually overflowing with their so-called pheromones and the Betas were numb enough to not care about it. In other words, Betas weren’t genetically designed to “please” the Alphas. Their minds controlled their libidos.

Betas and Omegas made the society’s “cute couples”. An Omega’s natural urge to submit to their mates was ebbed away by the absence of demanding submission by the Betas. Beta and Omega relationships were in fact the closest it came to being equal.

And the rarest of all were the Alpha and Omega couples. The oppressive atmosphere created by the Alphas, the submissive roles the Omegas were forced into, and the abuse they usually faced in their familial spaces led to this pairing to be the worst in its kind. Of course, when done right, this pairing was the simple lifelong demonstration of the concept “match made in heaven”, but since socially Omegas and the word ‘heaven’ only came together when they “assisted” someone climax during sex, the odds of it happening were very slim.

Of course, like history has repeated itself so many times, the survivors of the apocalypse may have gotten drunk one night to collectively decide – _Hmm, why not repeat it one more time, fellas?_

Alphas were placed on a pedestal; treated as they were the solution to the world’s every problem.

Betas were just sort of there.

And the Omegas were looked at as they were the solution to the world’s every problem when an Alpha got stumped.

_Translation – Let him fuck you till he comes so that he can get his head back in the game._

Alphas weren’t even considered to be fuckable. They fucked. They didn’t get fucked. If anyone tried, well, _they_ got fucked. Simple as that.

And Omegas were considered to be the carriers of their orgasms. Simple as that.

However, the way every Sigmund Freud has a Simone de Beauvoir, similarly, to answer to every cocky Alpha to have walked post-apocalyptic earth, there came an Omega.

Her name was Alie. Not even considered worthy of deserving a last name, Alie worked hard day and night to make her name in the world without having anybody on her side. She was a self-made Omega woman who every woman now looked up to. Refusing to bend to any of the social conventions set for the Omegas by not even Omegas, themselves, Alie went on forward to become one of the first Omegas to be commended by an Alpha.

Obviously, the ability to procreate was something that every female possessed regardless of their second gender, with the exception of two significations: An Alpha female who could assist in procreation but couldn’t carry a child, and an Omega male, who could assist in procreation but was more than capable of carrying a child.

Children created by the second gender was even trickier:

Male/Female Alpha + Male/Female Alpha = Alpha progeny.

Male/Female Alpha + Male/Female Beta = Alpha progeny (85%), Beta progeny (15%).

Male/Female Beta + Male/Female Beta – Beta progeny

Male/Female Beta + Male/Female Omega = Omega progeny (Beta gene strength not stronger than that of the Omega gene)

Male/Female Alpha + Male/Female Omega = Alpha or Omega progeny (50-50 chances).

The politics of not wanting to have an Omega child, and biasedly increasing the chances to have an Alpha child always steered clear of Alpha-Omega relationships occurring.

It wasn’t easy. Life was difficult. Especially for the Omegas. Considerably, while life had gotten better for them since Alie, unfortunately, it was only on a legal level. With Alie’s achievements, Omegas could get education, they could work, they could even apply for a heat leave without having to fear losing their jobs.

Alie’s success also paved the way for so many other Omegas who contributed to the cause in their own way leading to reformations and discoveries such as drugs to suppress the Omega scent (which was only ever obvious to an Alpha, Betas were numb-er comparatively), invention of contraception for Omegas even during heat so that if/when they wish to spend their hear with an Alpha, their knot need not lead to guaranteed pregnancy – this was a particular milestone as many Omegas thought that they should be able to decide when they want to start a family rather than their heats. Reformations like these helped make the lives of Omegas slightly more bearable.

However, like mentioned before, it was all only in paper, not in practice.

Yes, the drugs made their lives easier and gave them opportunities to actually finish their education without having the fear of going into heat in the middle of an exam. But the society’s mind couldn’t be changed with only a few drugs.

It couldn’t be changed by words, it had to be by example.

Clarke Griffin aimed to be that example.

She was an oddball. Both parents Alphas. When Abby got pregnant, they were certain that she would be an Alpha too, Abby had said so herself. However, Clarke’s arrival caused a hullabaloo among the common public.

Rumor had it that the only reason she even made it was because she was Jake and Abby Griffin’s daughter.

While she was grateful for not having her infant head stuck on a pike for being something she couldn’t really control, Clarke hated the looks she got from people when they assumed that she was privileged. People didn’t know her. They didn’t know that she had to change schools after she’d had a heat scare in school, right in the middle of the cafeteria, while she was choosing between Apple Pie or the Choco-Lava Cake for dessert. Nobody knew that despite having the weight of the name Griffin after Clarke, her life was as hard as anybody else’s.

She was objectified at least once every two hours, three if she was lucky, she was demeaned for being a woman on top of being an Omega, and honestly, she really hated Alphas.

Not all of them were bad, she knew that. But that didn’t mean that their “inner Alpha” didn’t want her to submit to them. The idea itself made her skin crawl.

So yeah, she hated Alphas and all that they represented. Their ego, temper, _need_ to protect sounded so patronizing and cocky at the same time that Clarke deemed it to be better to stay away from them altogether.

 _It’s not worth it._ She would constantly tell herself.

Of course, just because she left it alone didn’t mean that _it_ would leave her alone.

Right when she unconsciously put her hand in her bag one day to search for her heat suppressant drugs, she pulled the bottle open to only to find that she only had enough to help her out for a few more days – she needed more pills.

Just as she popped the pills, she heard someone clear her throat behind her.

She turned her wheeled desk chair around to come face to face with a slightly tanned man who was pretty well-built. With an unruly and unfairly curly hair filled head that had the perfect bed-head look, he also had chocolate coloured eyes, a sharp nose and a pretty sharp jawline. She noticed that there was a scar near right above his upper lip when she heard those full pink lips move. Probably to talk.

“Hi, I’m Bellamy Blake. I’m the TA for Art History this semester,” he moved closer as he spoke. She caught a whiff of his scent just as he got close enough and her entire polite demeanor changed into something else.

 _Alpha._ Her mind screamed.

This would be interesting.


	2. Alphas Don't Get It

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bellamy and Clarke begin working together - in a summary.  
> Bellamy doesn't understand problems Omegas face - in a summary.  
> Bellamy likes Clarke - in a summary.

“Hi, I’m Bellamy Blake. I’m the TA for Art History this semester.”

Bellamy hoped that his voice was steady when he said that, because -  _hot damn_.

Well, he was against objectifying people based on the combined data of human history and the current trepidation of werewolf folks.

But seriously, this woman in front of him looked like she was the most perfect creature created by whichever God that existed. With her shoulder length blonde hair, pale complexion and blue eyes that had enough depth to hypnotize someone, Bellamy thought that he may have fallen in love with her a little bit .

Which is why, when he saw her, after clearing his throat and before introducing himself, it took him some time to realize that he was staring at her as if she held the answers to all worldly questions.

In other words, a part of him knew that he was screwed.

 _Come on, man. First day on the job. Let’s not botch this._ He mentally scolded himself.

“Uh – Hi. I’m Dr Clarke Griffin. I’m the associate professor of Art –

“History, I know,” Bellamy said with a genuine smile on his face.

 _She's prettier than I'd imagined._ He thought to himself.

Of course, Bellamy Blake had heard of the infamous Clarke Griffin. She was wildly popular around the campus and some circles outside campus also.

Hardass, badass, a woman who gives no fucks were some of the words/phrases people used to describe her.

He’d heard through the grapevine – a very, very active grapevine – that she was an Omega.

However, in that moment, he couldn’t catch a scent on her.

_Maybe she takes Omega suppressants._

 “I’ve heard a lot about you,” he continued with the same smile on his face.

Clarke kept her face impassive and only gave him a once over.

He looked older than she was. But she didn’t have time for chit-chat and had to get the work around done.

“Well, since you’re the new TA, have you been told of your responsibilities?” Clarke asked in a professional tone.

“Yeah, I think,” Bellamy said.

“You think, huh? Well, don’t worry, you’ll figure things out as the time passes,” Clarke said.

 _She seems alright._ Bellamy thought.

“You should familiarize yourself with the student list and their given backgrounds so that you have better insight into student relations. Also, why did you take this job, Mr. Blake?” Clarke asked, again with professional curiosity.

“What do you mean?” Bellamy asked.

“I mean, do you wish to take up teaching in universities as a career path or…?” Clarke trailed off.

“Yes! I mean, yeah. I do. I want to teach. I love teaching,” Bellamy answered.

“Good to know,” Clarke said. “In that case, I’ll be sure to do my part to train you as much as I can, but don’t expect to handle my classes independently anytime soon. For now, with regard to handling a classroom space, I’ll only have you make lesson plans and observe the classes while I teach. And I do want you to carry on with your original responsibilities as a TA. Is that understood? Any questions?”

“No, ma’am,” Bellamy said.

“It’s Dr Griffin. I’m too young to be called ma’am,” Clarke said in almost a petulant tone.

“My bad, Dr Griffin,” Bellamy answered with a smirk on his face.

 _Her pout is adorable._ He thought, slightly biting his lower lip.

“Welcome aboard, Mr. Blake,” Clarke gave a slight smile in his direction.

Bellamy smiled back.

 

Working for Clarke was going pretty well for Bellamy. He didn't understand the rumors about her anymore; her being bitter, egotistical and snobby. His experiences with her have only proven to him otherwise.

However, what Bellamy didn’t understand was that while the circumstances under which they survived were similar, the reception to their existence by general population had heaven and earth of a difference.

Life was fundamentally different for Bellamy and for Clarke.

Bellamy didn’t take suppressants because Alphas were socially conditioned to exist that way.

On the other hand, Clarke had to take suppressants because not taking them would either attract unwanted attention (attention being an understatement), or judgmental eyes that screamed _she’s looking for an Alpha’s attention_.

She couldn’t speak for other Omegas, but she simply wanted to be left alone so that she could focus on work.

 

And work with Clarke was productive. Monotonous, but productive.

Bellamy reckoned that living with the sentiment of having to prove yourself to people could do that to someone.

Because as far as he could tell, Clarke loved teaching.

She always engaged her students in an interactive sessions, wanting to not only learn the way they think but also offer new perspectives from which they could think. Clarke Griffin was amazing at her job and Bellamy Blake couldn’t understand for the life of him as to why people talked about her the way they did.

 _It’s not like you spend every waking moment with her._ A voice spoke in his mind.

_But then again you wouldn’t mind._

Bellamy smiled at the thought.

Yes, he had felt an attraction to her since first meeting her. He was working up the courage to ask her out when it happened.

Bellamy was escorting Clarke to go submit her weekly report to the office of the chair of Art History at the university, Cage Wallace.

He didn’t have to go, but then again, what people said about Cage was way worse than what they said about anyone else. But he, too, came from an influential family and was a “pristine” Alpha, so no one dared challenging his authority.

Also, Bellamy was willing to take up any opportunity to spend time with Clarke.

“You do realize, you don’t have to escort me, Mr. Blake?” Clarke asked, walking towards Wallace’s office.

“Oh yeah, I know. But, I’m practically your assistant, so I gotta learn how to do this stuff, you know?” Bellamy answered.

 _I also like spending time with you but am too chicken to admit it to your face._ The voice spoke.

As they reached Wallace’s office, Clarke spoke, “Stay here, I’ll only be a minute.”

Bellamy gave her a mock salute and watched as she made her way inside.

He waited the door to close.

“Okay Bellamy, you can do this. You can ask her out. Things have been going smoothly between you and her this past week and you can ask her out for a cup of coffee. Yeah, coffee. Coffee sounds good,” he murmured to himself before leaving a long breath. “Okay, I can do this.”

Just then, he heard Clarke’s voice rising from inside the office which drew his attention there.

He moved closer to hear them speak.

“What did you just say to me?” Clarke asked him loudly but not quite yelling.

Bellamy discreetly opened the door, only slightly to let him sneak a peek, but not enough to spook them of being watched.

“Well, it’s not exactly a lie,” Cage said, a vicious smirk on his face.

“I don’t care whether you think it’s the truth or not, you cannot speak to me like that,” Clarke said.

“I’m just saying, heats can’t be a pretty thing. Now, while I appreciate you giving me an early notice about your heat leave, I’m merely...giving a suggestion. You could spend it in pain or you could ask an Alpha to help you through it,” Cage said as if it he and Clarke were BFFs for him to be giving away suggestions. 

Bellamy couldn’t see her face but judging by the way her right hand turned into a fist, she was, clearly, not liking this conversation.

 “And if no other Alphas are available, there are some Alphas who would be _more than willing_ to help you out,” Cage said, rising from his seat, placing his hands on his desk and leaning over to gaze at Clarke from underneath his eyelashes.

“No, thank you,” Clarke said with a straight face but gritting her teeth.

She was smart enough to know that her time hadn’t yet come to hand Cage his ass the way she wanted to. So she only settled for a distant and cold reply.

Sensing that the conversation had come to a halt, Bellamy let the door close again, stepping back wondering if he could still ask her out.

Just then, Clarke stepped out, trying to school her features but failing, her anger visible on her face.

“Mr. Blake, you didn't need to wait for me, you can go home,” Clarke said in a clipped tone, but Bellamy sensed that it wasn’t him she was annoyed with.

“It’s no sweat. I have to pick my bag up from your office, anyway,” Bellamy said.

Settling for only a nod, Clarke started walking back towards her office.

Once there, Bellamy took his time collecting his things, glancing at Clarke every few seconds.

_How can I help?_

_How can I make you feel better?_ He thought helplessly.

Clarke had a faraway look on her face and a frown in her brows. She was playing with her cell phone, looking deep in thought.

“Well, I’ll see you tomorrow, Dr Griffin,” Bellamy said pulling Clarke out of her thought.

Shifting her gaze towards him, Clarke said, “Yes, see you tomorrow, Mr. Blake. Drive safe.” She then turned her desk chair away from him.

He walked out of her office but stayed at an earshot distance. He knew it wasn’t nice to eavesdrop, but given how closed off she was, he saw no other way to find something out about her when he heard her talk.

“Hey, it’s me.”

“Yeah, I’m fine. How’s your day been?”

“Oh you know, lesson plans, teaching and dealing with sexist Alphas, the usual.”

Bellamy’s ears wrung at hearing _the usual_.

_Did that mean that Clarke dealt with on a regular basis?_

“No, I know. But that doesn’t make it okay, Rae.”

A second later, Clarke said, “I just really dislike Alphas.”

And just like that, Bellamy’s plans went out the window.

_Yeah, I can’t ask her out._

_Not yet._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There you have it!
> 
> Gotta admit, not my best work, but please be patient.  
> The good stuff is coming people.  
> Everything that has been summarized in this chapter will be navigated in detail in the later ones.


	3. What Do I Do?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bellamy and Clarke and a lot of confusion.  
> Also, a bit of Clarke's past.

Clarke was surprised by Bellamy’s demeanor. She was expecting a typical Alpha, driven by their inner need to dominate people and get them to submit to them, but no. Bellamy was proving to be someone else entirely.

He was sweet, flashed smiles at her, which she sometimes found slightly flirtatious but paid no heed to, he also maintained a respectable amount of distance from her. Not out of disgust, but out of the sheer concern of not wanting to freak her out. She noticed him staring at her a few times, but dismissed those too, thinking that he only looked at her because she was an Omega. It was natural for an Alpha to be attracted to an Omega, even when said Omega was on suppressants. She was all work and no play. But she was in no way dull.

Clarke Griffin knew how to have fun. She had her own band of misfit friends.

She despised Alphas. But that didn’t mean that she wasn’t friends with any Alpha. She wasn’t judgmental of the gender, she was judgmental over the behavior some people justified using the gender as an excuse.

Her own best friends were Alphas – Raven and Wells.

 

Wells had been in her life since they wore diapers. He was there for her like no one else had been. When her parents found out that she was an Omega and had cried, worrying about her future because the society was cruel, Wells had been there to whisk her away and distract her. When she’d first cried when she understood what it meant, being an Omega, Wells had held her through the night and whispered words of comfort in her ears, eventually falling asleep with her in his arms. When she’d had her heat scare, the first time and every time after that in public, Wells had not only come picked her up but also growled at anyone who so much as eyed her.

When Wells presented as an Alpha, his first thought was not that he was bringing honor to his family by continuing their Alpha legacy, but that he was going to lose Clarke Griffin.

But she didn’t care. She was happy for him, which had surprised him and had only increased the love he’d had for her. People had thought because of their close friendship that maybe Clarke and Wells would be good together.

All that went down the drain at the entrance of one Raven Reyes.

Alpha – hailed from a broken home – worked her ass off to make it to where she was.

Because she was an Alpha, people had left her alone in the foster home. She’d been adopted by Marcus Kane – another somewhat popular Alpha in their town.

When Clarke met Raven, her thoughts remained impassive. So were Wells’. That was until Raven insulted Clarke in the cafeteria during lunch and she and Wells entered a verbal battle. It didn’t take long for Wells to shut it down completely. He could tolerate a lot, but never insults thrown at his best friend.

Raven tamed down a little after that, seeking Clarke out to apologize to her, explaining that she’d had a shitty day and Clarke only happened to be the closest to the explosion of Raven Reyes. Clarke, being the blunt person that she is, told her that while she forgave her, it didn’t mean that all was okay. They weren’t suddenly friends and she definitely didn’t trust her. Raven understood and silently promised herself that she would earn Clarke’s friendship.

And, God was it worth it?

If there was anyone more protective of Clarke than Wells, it was Raven (it was a topic up for debate between Wells and Raven, though). Raven and Clarke had become fast friends when she beat up a kid who was picking on another Omega in the school and Clarke had watched her from a distance, Raven unaware of her presence. That day, Clarke decided to invite Raven to her and Wells’ weekly hangout in the park. Their friendship only went uphill since that day.

Clarke wasn’t an idiot though. She knew that there were good Alphas just as there were bad Omegas.

She also wasn’t blind. She could see her two best friends silently pine after each other till she told Raven to pull her head out of her ass and do something because Wells wouldn’t, he respected women too much. But she didn’t know that her talk with Raven would end in Raven roughly kissing Wells on the mouth when he came to pick them up one day after Raven’s soccer practice before he could so much as say ‘hi’ to the girls. Leave it to Raven Reyes to get whatever the hell she wants. 

She loved her friends.

But sometimes, a small part of her also resented them – a very, very small part. She felt like she couldn’t protect herself in the absence of her Alpha friends. And hearing people call Wells her ‘guard dog’ only intensify that sentiment.

It was complicated.

It got even more complicated when she fell in love for the first time.

Finn Collins – Beta – Jock – Jackass#1.

But of course she didn’t know that when she first met him.

The picture perfect chocolate boy had taken over Clarke’s mind the first time she saw him. It was a typical scene cut from a dumb romance novel. Some bullies had tried to trip her and while she dodged them enough to save herself from falling, the books in her hands perished and fell in a mess onto the hallway floor. Like a gentleman (bullshit), Finn had helped her and flirted with her a little. She fell for him as hard as a teenager could. She would moon over him, be lost in daydreams featuring only the two of them - it was a whole la vie en rose situation.

Soon, he asked her out, took her out on a few dates before trying to sleep with her. Of course, since she thought she was in love, she trusted him to take care of her.

What she didn’t expect was the next day; the school was flooded with whispers about her.

_I heard that she’d taken enhancers to ensure he could get a whiff of her Omega scent._

_I hear that she begged him to breed her._

_I heard that she wasn’t that great._

_Fucking Omega._

Clarke Griffin didn’t run away from anything. But that day, she came pretty close. She didn’t run away, but she did lock herself in the janitor’s closet and cried her eyes out.

When she came out about 45 minutes later, she found her two best friends fuming over the things they’d heard.

Wells asked only two things, which more or less came out as growl.

“Is it true?”

Clarke nodded.

“Did you want to do it?”

Clarke nodded again and sniffed, feeling as though her wound was being scratched at.

He let out an actual growl after that and stormed off.

Raven held Clarke for a while and kept her close for the rest of the day.

The next day, Clarke saw Finn with a bruised jaw and a swollen eye.

She also saw Wells’ bruised hand, anger burning in his eyes when he saw Finn make eye contact with Clarke.

A week later, when Finn’s face was considerably better, his car, however, was not.

Turns out, _someone_ had taken out all the tires and had stolen the car battery. The whole cafeteria heard him cry out curses “who the fuck would do something like this?” while Raven sat next to her, a smug look on her face.

To make things worse for Finn, she found out later that someone had peed in his shampoo bottle that he kept in the football team’s locker room.

When she heard that she turned to look at Wells with wide, unbelieving eyes and a dropped jaw.

“Hey, don’t look at me! I had nothing to do with that,” he’d said.

Just when she was going to respond, she heard two boys talk not that far from them.

“Ha! It worked!”

“Man, he reeks of piss.”

“Keep your voice down, Jas!”

And that’s how she’d met Monty Green and Jasper Jordan. They hadn’t done it for her, they’d done it because Jackass#1 deserved it.

Both Monty and Jasper were Omegas. And they preferred when nobody fucked with genders, not theirs in particular, just in general. When someone did, they took it upon themselves to fuck shit up.

Clarke liked them instantly.

Of course, over time, Jasper found Maya – A Beta – who loved him for all his quirkiness and gave him competition with hers; and her friend group welcomed a new member.

 So, Clarke had a decent friend circle. She loved all of them dearly; two Alphas and three Omegas and a Beta. Who’d have thought that they could be the thickest of friends?

 

Clarke thought herself to be able to read people fairly well, Jackass#1 being the only exception.

But Bellamy Blake continued to be an enigma to her.

He’d be extremely sweet sometime, and be professional the next; as though he was calculating his movements around her. She couldn’t exactly say that she liked it.

Because Clarke kept a secret from her best friends. While they knew about her new TA and his gender, they didn’t know that Clarke _liked_ Bellamy’s scent.

It wasn’t uncommon, exactly, for an Omega to like an Alpha’s scent. But this _was_ the first time that Clarke had found someone’s scent appealing. The fact caused something weird and unsettling to churn in her stomach.

That couldn’t mean anything though, could it?

So she liked his scent, so what?

That didn’t mean all of a sudden that she was in love with the guy!

 _Raven and Wells like each other's scents and they're in love, same goes for Jasper and Maya._ Her mind provided uselessly. 

These thoughts were whirling inside her head when she heard a knock on her door.

“Hey, I just came to remind you once again that I won’t be in town for the weekend,” Bellamy’s voice flooded her chamber.

Okay, she liked his voice also and his presence only proved that she _really_ liked his scent.

She cleared her throat.

“Okay, Mr Blake.”

“If you need anything you can just email me. Or...I could have your number?”

“Email would be fine, Mr Blake,” Clarke said, maybe too quickly.

If Clarke wasn’t mistaken, Bellamy looked a little disappointed before he schooled his features.

“Well then. Have a great weekend, Dr Griffin,” he smiled easily.

“You too, Mr Blake.”

 

“Oh, my God!!” Aurora Blake’s scream filled the kitchen but Bellamy was sure that his sister could hear it till her bedroom.

His inhibition was only confirmed when he heard her voice from upstairs.

“What happened?” she breathed out, as she fixed her sweater and then her hair, still wet from the shower.

She walked over the Bellamy and kissed his cheek.

“What’s gotten mom so happy?” she asked as she took her seat on the kitchen island.

“My boy is in love!” Aurora mooned.

_“What?”_

_“Mom!”_

Bellamy and Octavia answered at the same time. Octavia turned to Bellamy and waited for an explanation.

“I am not in love,” he said hastily.

“Oh, please,” his mother scoffed. “Honey, you should’ve seen him talk about her just a few minutes ago. You would’ve thought the same thing,” she said to Octavia.

“Who is this person again?” Octavia asked turning back to Bellamy.

“She’s the Associate Professor of Art History at the uni. She’s so amazing. She's got bright blonde hair that somehow always smells great, she's got big, beautiful, blue eyes, and she's got this super cute mole right above her upper lip. Oh, and she _loves_ teaching! She’s so passionate about art! The other day she was talking about the Japanese art of Kintsugi and it was so enthralling to listen to her! She talks about art the way –

“The way you talk about her?” Octavia asked with a raised brow and a smirk on her face. “God, mom’s right. You’re in love big bro.”

“I am _not_ in love!”

 _Just admit it already._ His thoughts washed over him.

“Okay, I may like her, _a little_ , but I’m not in love with her,” he told his family. “I just – I just want to hold her hand, kiss her cheek, smell her hair and take care of her,” he said with a faraway look.

“But that doesn’t mean that I love her, all of a sudden,” he huffed.

“Sure, it doesn’t,” Octavia said crossing her arms across her chest, clearly meaning the opposite.

His mom had a similar stance.

Bellamy rolled his eyes and grew stoic once he thought of Clarke in Cage’s office the other day.

“What’s wrong?” his mother asked.

Bellamy closed his eyes and sighed.

“Mom,” he said, looking up at her with his big brown eyes, “Even if I do like her, there’s no way she would like me back. She hates Alphas, and I don’t blame her for it. Being an Omega, she must’ve been treated pretty rough. People talk about her on campus, you know? They say that she’s heartless and that she doesn’t care about anything in the world. But that’s not true! She’s so caring about her students, about her parents, and her friends, I’ve heard her talk to them over the phone. Mom, I just wish I could somehow do something to make it better for her. Sometimes, I think she might like me, or at least my scent, because there are times she breathes deeply when I’m close to her, God, I wish I could do the same! But I can’t, because she takes suppressants. Heck, we aren’t even on first name basis yet! I tried getting her phone number earlier today and she just shot me down,” he breathed heavily and put his head down.

His mom and Octavia look at him with matching frowns.

His mom was an Omega too, so she knew exactly how hard life could be for them. That’s why she’d taught both her children to treat everyone according to their personalities and not their gender. She’d taught them everything the people around her growing up hadn’t learned. Octavia was a Beta and Bellamy was an Alpha. Before Bellamy learned the meaning of the genders and the roles they played in placing people in a hierarchy in the society, Aurora was forced to fend for herself in the world. And she was badass at it.

“Honey, look at me,” she said to Bellamy in a soothing voice.

Bellamy looked up at his mom.

She smiled at him.

“Life is fundamentally different for Alphas and Omegas. Betas somehow get a pass for some reason,” she said with a motherly smile at Octavia “but Omegas get the worst of it. And while there may be other people who may have taught their children what I’ve taught you two, but the probability of it happening is slim. Alphas in the world like to swim in their pride and while that’s alright, treating people of other gender solely based on their gender is not. Respect is of utmost importance, Bellamy. So do that. Let her know that you respect her above all else. But whatever happens let her know that there won’t be a bigger person in the relationship. Neither you nor she should control the whole relationship. Relationships don’t grow like that, they become toxic like that. There needs to be balance, sweetie. Let her know that you’re willing to provide that without compromising either her or yourself.”

“All that is fine, ma, but where do I start?”

“That’s obvious, isn’t it big bro?”

Bellamy raised an eyebrow at Octavia.

She smiled at him.

“You woo her, of course.”

As he got into bed that night, Bellamy wondered - 

How does one woo Clarke Griffin?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There you go!  
> Let me know what you think in the comments. :)  
> How would you want Bellamy to woo her?


	4. Progress Isn't Easy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bellamy plans to woo Clarke.   
> But Clarke has to physically present to be wooed. 
> 
> Note: Rating changed and tags added.

Bellamy thought of a multitude of ways to woo Clarke. He could buy her flowers. While she hadn’t explicitly ever mentioned whether or not she liked flowers, Bellamy thought that it was safe to assume that she did – nothing to do with her sex, just that Clarke seemed like a flower kind of a person. He also thought that maybe he could buy her coffee. He knew that she brought her coffee from home everyday, if the travel mug was anything to go by. He thought of buying her a book, maybe something of his likeness that she may also enjoy…okay, so maybe Bellamy was hoping to expand the land of similarities between the two. Who could blame him?

Obviously, he wasn’t an idiot. He knew that none of these came close to wooing someone. But he, first, had to get to know her; and Bellamy wanted to start easy; express his interest without spooking her. Then he could pull out the big guns. Bellamy didn’t take pride in it or credit for it, but he knew how to make a woman feel special without compromising his respect for her. When he was complemented for it, he simply said that the credit went to his mom for raising him thus. But just the thought of doing all those things for Clarke made him feel giddy.

_Goddamn, I’m in trouble._ _Focus, Blake!_ He thought to himself as he made his way through campus.

It was then that it hit him that in a few short minutes, he was going to see Clarke again. Three days isn’t that long a time, but still, it made him feel all warm and fuzzy inside.

And if he skipped a step while walking out of sheer joy, well, nobody was around to judge him for it.

When he finally made his way to her office, instead of facing an open door and anticipating that _amazing_ scent of whichever conditioner she used, he was faced with a closed door with a notice stuck on it.

_Professor Griffin is on leave, until further notice. She will neither be taking classes, nor will she be seeing students during office hours._ _I_ _f students have queries, they may approach Professor Gaia._

She was on leave? She hadn’t told Bellamy anything. Bellamy whipped out his cell phone, opened his mail and refreshed it.

Nothing.

There was no email from Clarke.

A frown formed on Bellamy’s face as his brain worked itself, trying to find some way to justify Clarke’s absence.

What could have happened?

_Heat?_ His mind immediately supplied.

A slight blush colored his cheeks as he tried not to imagine Clarke in that position. Not yet, at least. That’s when he remembered that Clarke had given Cage her notice for heat leave only a few weeks ago; which meant that she won’t be going into heat for at least another three months. Clarke was particular about such things. Not to mention, she took her medicines and supplements regularly.

So what the heck could get her to apply for a leave?

As far as he’d heard from her students, who while admired her teaching, sometimes didn’t like the fact that Clarke almost never took time off or even gave them time off. She never missed classes. He’d heard that even on high fever, she’d come to class only to make the students read and jot down important questions that they may have while she rested her head on her desk.

Bellamy’s palms itched for him to do something. He didn’t want to go see Cage because he was an asshole. He checked the staff room to see if any other professors were present. Nobody was there. They all had classes.

Dammit.

Maybe he could send an email?

Bellamy’s palms itched for him to do something. He didn’t want to go see Cage because he was an asshole. He checked the staff room to see if any other professors were present. Nobody was there. They all had classes.

Dammit.

Maybe he could send her an email?

_Yeah, and what would you say idiot? “Hey, this is Bellamy, your TA about to ask a completely non TA related question: where the hell are you and are you okay?”_ He cringed at his thoughts. 

Maybe if he carefully worded it?

Something along the lines of - _Your students were wondering..._ no. Can't use the students as an excuse. 

Ooh! Something like - _I went ahead and drafter this week's lesson plan and wanted to go over it with you..._ nope. She wouldn't buy it. She'd probably bite back asking him why he didn't show it to her last week since it's a rookie mistake to wait till Monday to finalize a lesson plan.  

Yeah, no, sending an email could be dicey.

He decided to just suck it up and go see Cage, see if he gives him any answers. After all, the momentum of his concern for Clarke trumped his disdain for Cage.

He knocked on Cage’s office door. He was surprised when a voice said, “Come in, please.”

Because the voice was a very female voice.

He opened the door cautiously, worried that he was about to barge in on something of probable importance between Cage and whoever the woman was.

But, no, he only saw a woman setting up the desk. It almost seemed like she was settling in, _instead of Cage_.

“I’m sorry, I was looking for Mr Wallace,” Bellamy said, hoping to sound monotonous and not at all interested in _whatever the fuck was going on_.

“Ah, so the staff hasn’t been told, I suppose. No worries. My name is Dr Cece Cartwig. I’m temporarily taking Mr Wallace’s chair since he’s currently overseas managing ties with other universities. As you know, our department has been aiming to improve its stature on a global scale, if possible, we're hoping, and what better way to do it than approach other universities and negotiate academic relations, right?” Dr Cartwig said with a professional smile.

The fact that the department was being allowed to initiate such relations was something that made Bellamy genuinely glad. God knew they needed it. Possible exchange programs or even a field trip to any university with a sound Art History establishment was something that would benefit the students a lot.

But he still worried about Clarke.

“Pardon me, Dr Cartwig, but I’m not a faculty here. My name is Bellamy Blake and I’m the TA for Dr Griffin. I saw that she’s on leave. Excuse me, ma’am, if this seems out of line, but I was wondering if you could tell me the reason for her leave?” Bellamy asked in professional words, but his tone scared him.

_I hope I didn’t sound desperate to know_. He thought.

“Dr Griffin - Dr Clarke Griffin?” Cartwig asked.

“Yes.”

“Right, I’m sorry but I don’t really have the reason here. I was told the same thing as you, I suppose, that she’s on leave until further notice,” Cartwig said with a shrug.

“Well, thank you, anyway, Dr Cartwig. Good day,” Bellamy said and left after getting a nod in response.

_What the hell was going on?_

 

Miles away, in her home, Clarke woke up with a groan.

She was in pain.

She slowly sat up in bed, her midsection aching like crazy. She reached for the bottle of water resting on her bedside table and opened her mouth to take a few gulps. The skin around her mouth stretched as it was covered in dried up tears and a little drool. She winced as the water made its way down her throat. It really hurt.

She got up and let out a small whimper. She made her way to the bathroom and turned to look at herself in the mirror. Her eyes were red due to crying and lack of sleep. Her eyes then fell on the only visible mark while she was fully clothed. The distinct hand prints around her neck. She traced them with a finger, anger and resentment bubbling inside her like lava.

She slowly started to strip.

_Fuck._

Even taking her clothes off had become a struggle; putting her hands up while trying to take her top off was painful _as fuck_. Once she was done her eyes immediately fell to her ribs, bluish-purple bruises littered across her creamy white skin. She took the image in and fought the tears that threatened to fill her eyes.

She then took off her pajama pants and saw one more hand print on her thigh. Memories of what had happened last weekend filled her mind and she could no longer control her emotions. Tears filled her eyes and spilled over onto her cheeks earnestly. She started sobbing, wanting to cry violently, but couldn’t since even crying fucking hurt. Heck, breathing heavily hurt. 

She wanted to cry properly, but couldn’t. She also wanted to yell at _him_ , but couldn’t.

She took her time showering, tending to her bruises and then dressing up before having breakfast, one thought plaguing her mind. The same thought that seemed to have made its home in there.

_I fucking hate Alphas._

Only for an additional thought to make an invasion.

_But I hate him more._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There you go. :)  
> Who do you think did what to Clarke?   
> Is Bellamy going to find way to help Clarke?   
> Would you want him to go out of his way and stalk her to her place or wait for her to return from her leave?   
> Let me know what you think in the comments. :)


	5. It Isn’t That Simple

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bellamy goes to meet Clarke.  
> Bellamy thinks something - Clarke doesn't correct him.

Bellamy didn’t know what to do or who to go to ask after Clarke. He’d drafted three emails but had deleted each one because he felt as though he was overstepping simply by asking how she was. Clarke’s sentiments of Alphas made Bellamy calculate his each and every move. He wanted to win her over but not by force. The feat was, surely, not going to be easy.

And Bellamy wouldn’t have it any other way.

Because to him, Clarke was worth it.

_Oh! Just admit you love her already._

Bellamy was busy drafting the mind-map of his thesis in the library when the thought hit him – _Right! I could just ask her that I need help with my own thesis and slyly ask later on if she’s okay_.

Bellamy set to work and began drafting an email when someone tapped him on the shoulder.

“Hey, you’re Clarke Griffin’s TA, right?” a non-teaching faculty asked.

“Yeah, I’m _Dr_ Griffin’s TA,” Bellamy said, emphasizing on her title.

_Geez! Overprotective much?_

 The stranger rolled her eyes.

“Right, her. Well, she’s on leave but this morning she sent an email to Dr Cartwig that she’d appreciate it if someone could pass on the study notes she’d made for the class so that she can upload audio classes online for her students.”

_So she isn’t sick._

She continued talking, “I need to know where she’s stashed her notes so that I can have them sent. Since you’re the TA, you should know where she keeps them, I presume?”

Bellamy nodded, “Yeah, I know where she keeps them. If you could follow me,” he said gathering his belongings and getting up to make his way towards her office.

Bellamy dug through her files and found the study notes. He turned to the woman and became reluctant to hand them over; a thought prickling his mind.

“Who are you gonna send to hand these over to her?” he voiced his thoughts.

“Oh, an intern, probably. Poor bastards are looking for something exciting to do anyway,” she said with a jovial shake of her head.

“Would it be alright if I went? Would that be okay?” Bellamy tried his luck.

“Oh! There’s no problem in that, at all! Don’t know why you’re being so hesitant, though. Worst thing you’ll probably be doing is pissing off that intern for taking away his opportunity to go out of campus,” she said with a smile.

“Thank you, Ms?” Bellamy asked.

“I’m Indra. I’m one of the administrative coordinators for the Department of History,” she said with a smile.

“Right, right, if I’m not wrong, isn’t Professor Gaia your daughter?” he asked. He’d heard things through the grapevine.

A gigantic and proud smile spread across Indra’s face. “Yes, that’s my girl.”

_Man, one day I hope my mom looks like this too when she hears someone ask about me._

“Well, I’ve heard nothing but good things about her,” he said with a genuine smile.

It earned him another smile and a sentimental motherly nod.

“I do apologize to cut this conversation short but I suppose I should get these to Dr Griffin,” he said shaking the notes in his hand in the air. “Would you be so kind and tell me where she lives?”

_Please, don’t say no. Please, don’t say no._

“Oh, do you not know where she lives?”

 _Please, don’t ask anything else. Please, don’t ask anything else._ Bellamy silently hoped as he shook his head.

“Well, then follow me, dearie. I’ll look her address up and give it to you in a jiffy,” she said with a smile.

Bellamy followed Indra to her desk, put his hands behind his back and waited patiently as she searched for Clarke’s address. Indra wrote it down for him on a post-it note and gave it to him. He stuck it on the notes that he was carrying.

“There you go,” she said with a smile.

After thanking her once more, Bellamy made his way to Clarke’s house. He got in his car and looked at the address. He knew the neighborhood. His hands shook as he put the car in ignition and then on the steering wheel.

_God I’m about to see Clarke again._

He was dancing on the inside and his own scent was giving the major hint.

 _Does it make me a horrible person to wish that since she’s home, maybe she might not be on her suppressants and I can_ finally _discover what she smells like?_

That particular thought made Bellamy want to jump up and down like a maniac which was peculiar since he didn’t like dancing. He wanted to know what she smelled like. He wanted to know if her scent was as tantalizing as she was. By this point, he’d be satisfied only with a whiff of her scent. He’d find a way to drown all of him in it. He was sure it would take minimum effort.

He also wanted her to tell him what he smelled like to her – as far as he could judge, she seemed to be comfortable around him. He remembered a friend of his from childhood, Lily Marsh, who was also an Omega, had told him that he smelled like apples and the woods. He’d helped her out during her heat. When everyone thought that they’d begin dating soon after, they told them that they’d talked about it and agreed that they didn’t share any feelings of romantic nature. She’d unexpectedly gone into heat and was comfortable enough to let Bellamy help her. Her exact words were somewhere along the lines of _you’re the only one with a somewhat tolerable scent._ While Bellamy had spent her hear with her, not once was he overcome with the desire to bite her. So, he neither mated her, nor knotted her. He pulled out as soon as she achieved her orgasm and finished at quite a distance from her southern hemisphere which she was grateful for. She didn’t want an Alpha’s knot; she just wanted the burn she felt from within to cool down, if only a little.

But Bellamy quite often wondered what he smelled like to Clarke. If he smelled nice to her. If she would let him smell ( _scent_ ) her. So far the only scent he got from her was the faint scent of cucumber from her lotion, he presumed, and the mixed aroma from her conditioner. Bellamy loved the way she smelled already. But he wanted to smell her in her rawest form i.e. with nothing applied – he wanted to smell the scent of purely Clarke.

As he reached his destination, he pulled over. Somehow in the pin drop silence inside his car the wild sound of his beating heart filled his ears.

_Goddamn. My heart sounds more like a band of drums._

He took several deep breaths to calm his nerves. He was only going to meet Clarke. Clarke Griffin. His boss. The woman with wavy blonde hair and eyes so blue, she could make the oceans envious, the woman who seemed to be the reason Bellamy couldn’t sleep at night since he was too busy dreaming up every possible scenario which started with him asking her out and ended with them in a house surrounded by their kids.

 _See, that? – That’s not helping._ His heart pleaded.

He took one more long deep breath before he grabbed the notes and made his way to her apartment building.

“How may I help you?” the doorman asked him in a bored voice.

“Good morning, I’m here with notes that Dr Clarke Griffin had requested,” Bellamy told him.

“Hold on a moment,” he said as he picked up the receiver to make a call.

“A gentleman is here with, a-uh, note for you,” he said.

Instantly, he put the receiver down and told him to go to the penthouse apartment 2.

Bellamy inwardly whistled.

_Damn. Penthouse Apartment._

He bounced back and forth on his heels while he rode the elevator.

When he finally reached the topmost floor, he fidgeted, trying to make himself more presentable. He saw the mirror in the hallway – _who puts a mirror in the hallway?_ – and fixed his clothes as much as he could, getting the smidge of powder on his pants from the powdered donut he’d had earlier that day. He looked both sides to check and see if the coast was clear, not wanting to be called a lunatic or vain or be accused of not owning a damn mirror. He fixed his hair next, running his hands through them; an attempt to tame them. And while he knew that nothing like kissing was going to happen between the, for good measure, he checked if his breath stank. It didn’t.

_Okay, all good._

He nervously went toward the apartment door and stood in front of it.

 _Behold._ He told his mind to shut up already.

“Alright,” he murmured under his breath and rang the doorbell.

It only took two seconds before the door swung open.

Clarke was sporting a frown on her face, her hair was up in a messy bun, almost falling apart, and she wore a comfortable pair of dark grey leggings with a pale green sweater.

She looked beautiful. “Mr Blake,” she said, the frown disappearing.

But what got Bellamy’s attention were the faded handprints around her neck.

Jealousy surged through Bellamy and he involuntarily clenched his jaw.

_Someone touched her. Someone pleased her. And it wasn’t me._

Anger and jealousy sang a harmony inside Bellamy and he couldn’t help the terseness in his voice when he said, “Here, I brought your notes for you.”

Clarke was taken aback. Here was her TA looking as good as the first day she saw him and rather than saying hello or even giving her a smile being terse.

_The hell?_

“Thank you," she said surprised that he'd gone through the trouble of bringing the notes to her. "Is everything okay, Mr Blake?” she asked as she took the notes from his hands.

Bellamy looked at his feet and nodded jerkily. He looked up and her but still couldn’t manage to bring a smile on his face.

_Oh, come on. As if you haven’t slept with other people. For crying out loud, you didn’t even know if she was with someone when you started to pine for her._

Bellamy shook his thoughts, cleared his throat and asked, “Is everything you needed there? I hope nothing’s missing.”

“No, all of it seems to be here.” she said, still irked by his demeanor.

“Okay.”

Clarke was really confused now. What the hell was going on with Bellamy? But while she cared about his feelings, right now, she was tired. Exhausted, even. The past two days had been hell for her. The pain in her midsection had just started to subside and the marks on her neck were slowly fading as well. She’d spent a good part of the previous day talking to her mother, and while she didn’t tell her exactly what had happened, because the Lord knew that her parents would take out all ammunition on anyone who dare hurt their daughter, talking to her had helped, exponentially. But right now, she couldn’t deal with Alphas any longer and if Bellamy was having _one of those days_ , then Clarke really was not interested in entertaining him.

She was about to tell him off when all of a sudden he asked, “So, I heard that you’re going to upload the audio classes online for the students?”

She nodded.

“Won’t your time with your boyfriend be disturbed by that?” he asked, not being able to keep the bitterness out. Clarke didn’t notice.

But she was shocked.

_Boyfriend? What the hell is he on about?_

She kept her face impassive.

“Excuse me?” she asked with a raised brow.

“Well, recording for classes can be difficult when you have company, is it not?” he asked, low-key hating himself for bringing it up because now, they were talking about it.

“Yes, it is,” she said, still not understanding what he meant by boyfriend, though.

“Well, won’t your time with your boyfriend be disrupted then?” he asked, barely keeping himself from gritting his teeth.

“Mr Blake, what makes you think I have a boyfriend?” Clarke asked point-blank.

Bellamy raised his eyebrows slightly and waved his finger in front of his own neck to point it out.

And it clicked to Clarke.

_He thinks that these marks were made during a romantic encounter._

_If only he knew._

_I kinda want to tell him._

_No! I can’t. People can’t be trusted._

“Wait, meaning you don’t have a boyfriend?” he asked with hope in his voice, his face almost splitting in a smile.

_Damn. No. No. No. I can’t have him think that either._

“Uh – not a boyfriend, not exactly, no,” she said.

_Think fast!_

“It’s just a guy I’m seeing,” she said.

_Yes, this could be a good cover for the marks._

Bellamy felt like he was being let down – _again_.

“So, you took a leave of absence to spend time with ‘just a guy you’re seeing’?” Bellamy asked, once again, his voice becoming terse.

“No,” Clarke scoffed, “Of course, not. I was down with a fever and he dropped by to surprise me but ended up staying with me till yesterday.”

_Yes, this was a good excuse. Now, I have a viable reason for my leave of absence, a way to justify the mark on my neck and my apartment doesn’t smell like anyone so, he can’t tell that it’s a lie._

Bellamy looked at her, really looked.

_Yeah it’s bothersome that she slept with someone. But why does it feel like she’s keeping something from me?_

“And, uh – When are you coming back?” he asked instead.

“I should be back the day after,” Clarke said, glad not having to lie anymore.

Bellamy nodded once at her and kept his eyes fixed on her for a moment.

He tried to get a scent, but couldn’t.

_Must’ve taken suppressants again, of course she did, she was anticipating a visitor._

He broke eye contact and looked down.

Clarke felt something deep, stirring and all-consuming for the duration that Bellamy held her eyes. Luckily, he broke eye contact before she could make meaning of it.

“I suppose, I should go,” Bellamy said.

Clarke bit her upper lip and nodded.

“Good day and take care, Dr Griffin.”

“Good day and drive safe, Mr Blake.”

Once he left and the door closed behind him, what neither of them felt was the light bang of their heads on either sides of the door, as they leaned against it and let out identical disappointed sighs.

 

Indeed, feat of Bellamy trying to win over Clarke was certainly not going to be easy. What Clarke didn’t know was that she was making it much harder.

The worst part was that she was doing it, unknowingly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There you go. :)  
> Jealous Bellamy is pretty nice to read, isn't it?  
> What do you think will happen next?  
> Let me know what you think in the comments! :)


	6. A Brooding Bellamy is a Bad Bellamy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clarke returns to work.  
> Bellamy avoids Clarke.  
> Clarke does something un-Clarke.
> 
> Minor Original Character (mentioned).

To say that Clarke was taken aback by Bellamy’s behavior when he’d come to see her was an understatement.

 _But that’s the thing. How do you know that he’d come_ to see you _?_

Right! He could’ve come simply to do his job or be a nice guy and drop off Clarke’s notes as she’d requested. Just because he’d been here and smelled damn good while he was at it, didn’t mean anything.

_Or did it?_

She remembered the time she had to send a colleague’s notes through to him as well. She never went to the TA. The administrative department got an intern to drop off the notes. So why had Bellamy come personally to hand her the notes? Did it mean something; something more than their professional relationship?

_But why would it? Why should it?_

Normally, women kept men at arm’s length from them. But Clarke was keeping Bellamy as far away as possible. She never engaged in small talk with him; never asked him about his family or friends. She never asked him whether he’d had food, because asking such questions also meant that she cared. Which she did, she just didn’t want him to know about it. She never asked him about anything that didn’t correlate to academia; and she was fine with it.

But that didn’t mean in the slightest that she didn’t want to. Clarke may have kept her tongue on a tight leash around Bellamy to maintain their relationship in a professional capacity but that didn’t mean that she didn’t notice anything.

Sometimes Bellamy’s mobile phone would buzz with a notification or a call and his whole face would light up like a Christmas tree. Clarke itched to ask him who it was, even if it was in a casual and nonchalant way. Was it family, friends or a girlfriend? (She’d hoped a number of times to not let it be a girlfriend, but she wasn’t going to let him know that.)

But, no, she kept it quiet and went about her business.

However, Clarke’s desire to want to talk to Bellamy beyond academic capacities did not stop at his cellular notifications. Sometimes, when he’d be working alongside her in silence; probably on his thesis, he’d be reading something while Clarke would work on her study notes for her students when a sudden huff of laughter would grasp her attention. There were other times when she’d just notice Bellamy reading intently and see his already furrowed brows furrow further, or he’d look content or sad, and Clarke would once again be in battle with her heart and her head as to whether she should just satisfy her curiosity. From an academic perspective, she could ask him what it was he was reading that was extracting such reactions from him. What he thought about whatever he was reading. But that, too, was a risky move.

Bellamy was an enigma to Clarke, for she had simply never met someone quite like Bellamy.

 

As she’d told Bellamy, a day after seeing him, Clarke had returned to work and was instantly bombarded with questions from her students.

“Are you feeling alright, Professor Griffin?”

“Will Professor Gaia become our permanent teacher?”

“Are you back for good, Professor Griffin?”

And her personal favorite was when one of the youngest students in her class had hugged her and said, “Don’t ever leave again, Professor Griffin.”

She laughed it off and asked the students to give her some breathing space. As the students took their seats, she patiently sat down and answered all the questions they had, academic or non-academic.

But what surprised her was that none of the students had asked if she had a good time with her “boyfriend” or commented on how sweet it was that her “boyfriend” had taken care of her over the course of her leave. In fact, her “boyfriend” wasn’t even brought up.

_These are my students, right? Young, hormonal, sex-crazed students?_

_Maybe Bellamy didn’t tell them about my “boyfriend” at all._ She thought.

But what did that mean? Was he jealous? A part of her wanted him to be. But she knew it’d be unfair to wish that when she didn’t even indulge in small talk with the man.

She turned her head to look for the man in question when she saw his seat empty.

Huh.

Weird.

Bellamy usually accompanied her to all her classes, save some. When he missed classes, he gave her a prior notice and would apologize profusely for missing them, looking damn cute doing it _(Shh, brain)_.

While Clarke, rationally, knew that Bellamy had his thesis to work on; having him not accompany or assist during class and enduring his absence without a heads up was enough to give her a whiplash.

Which is why, once class was dismissed; she went to her office to drop off her things, all but her phone and laptop and went to the library, hoping to find him there.

Oh, he was there, alright.

Wearing dark blue jeans and a V-neck black t-shirt, looking like sin on two legs, Bellamy was sitting in front of his laptop, typing away with a frown of concentration on his face.

Clarke didn’t really want to disturb him. So she dropped her laptop on a table and went about to find a textbook for references to form more notes. To her surprise though, when she came back, Bellamy’s seat was vacant.

A frown of confusion took its place on Clarke’s face.

_The hell?_

She knew he was gone because not only was his seat empty, but his belongings were absent too.

It was weird. But Clarke didn’t think too much about it yet. She went back to her office with her belongings and focused on preparing notes for her class.

Around noon, she was craving a snack, so she went to the cafeteria to treat herself with some junk when, again, to her surprise, she saw Bellamy sitting there typing away on his laptop and anxiously shaking his leg. She bought herself a light snack and made it a point to whisk by him. She slyly walked by him, even exaggeratedly waved her hips while doing so, just to get a rise _or something_ out of him. Lucky for her, a student stopped her, having run into her from the other end and asked her a doubt she’d had in class earlier that day. While answering her question, Clarke discreetly turned to look at Bellamy when she noticed his previously occupied chair was empty.

A growl of frustration was making its way up her throat. Was Bellamy avoiding her?

She finished her chat with her student and went back to her office to continue her work.

During lunch, she grabbed a sandwich and a book and went to the teacher’s lounge to be away from electronic devices. She removed her heels, relaxed into the comfortable couch and munched on her food as she read the words in front of her eyes intently. The faint sound of a whistle being blown in a distance pulled her attention and she looked out the window.

Football practice was on. The ground and the bleachers were visible from the lounge. She put her book down to rest her eyes for a while and stretched her legs. She put her shoes back on and walked to the window to breathe in the fresh air. Just then, something dark caught her eye. On focusing, she realized that it was her idiotic TA sitting on the bleachers with his laptop open in front of him.

Now she was truly irritated. What had happened that he had to take such measures to not be in the same place as her?

She decided that she wasn’t going to be the one to go to him. He had to come to her.

But judging by his behavior, he was as stubborn as she was.

That wasn’t going to help her, now, was it?

She thought of an idea, and with a smirk, she went back to her office.

 

To say that Bellamy was frustrated since he saw Clarke at her apartment was an understatement.

Someone had touched her.

_Touched her._

Touched. Her.

Needless to say, he _didn’t_ like it.

What was worse was how nonchalant she was about it; shrugging it off as if it meant nothing. Sleeping with someone she wasn’t even calling her boyfriend. The thought itself made him growl out loud. He knew he didn’t own her, he knew she wasn’t his. He knew that they were in no form close enough for him to be reacting the way that he was. But Goddamit, if it didn’t make him want to track down the guy, beat the crap out of him and tell him to stay the fuck away from his woman.

 _She’s not your woman, bub_.

“Thanks for that, brain,” he scoffed.

But since he was giving such an extreme reaction, also colloquially known as an _overreaction_ _(shut up, brain)_ , he’d decided to stay out of Clarke’s way and at least try to work on his thesis.

It wasn’t that difficult. Art fascinated him. Clarke fascinated him. When he imagined what he was reading in Clarke’s voice. He found a middle ground and it became easy for him to focus. He knew it was pathetic but meh, he didn’t care.

He was in the library, having typed five pages of literature review when he caught her trademark body lotion and conditioner scent. But he couldn’t let her know that he knew she was there. So he only slightly shifted in his seat and willed himself to not move his eyes away from the screen in front of him. When her scent faded away, he allowed himself to look around and noticed her absence.

He quickly picked up his things in a haphazard manner and left the library.

He went to the cafeteria. Since it wasn’t lunch time yet, he knew it’d be quiet there. In the next two hours, he had three more pages of literature review when someone walked past him. He looked up and saw Clarke’s ass swiveling in front of him as she walked away.

 _Hot damn._ He groaned internally.

For a woman who had no idea what she was doing to him, she sure had her moves locked down.

 _Please, don’t turn around. Please, don’t turn around._ He wished on a loop.

He thanked the heavens when one of her students stopped her to talk to her. He quickly picked up his things and went to sit at the bleachers.

He wondered why more people didn’t hang out near the bleachers because ironically, that was where the Wi-Fi signal was the strongest. He got to work. Sure, the coach’s whistle and the teammates’ yelling was a problem but Bellamy could deal with it. Anything was better than being around Clarke and having to see those love _(barf)_ marks on her neck.

He checked his watch.

4:30 P.M.

He set his laptop aside and cracked his knuckles. He’d made progress today. He was happy. He got up and stretched the rest of his body. Just when he was about to shut his laptop down, a notification bubble appeared on his screen.

1 mail.

From Clarke Griffin.

His breath hitched.

The content was only one sentence.

_Mr Blake, please come see me in my office._

He frowned. But his feet didn’t stop at all. At once, he packed all his things neatly, he could send mail about his progress to his supervisor from home, and made his way to Clarke’s office.

 

He knocked once and waited for a response.

“Please, come in,” her soothing voice said causing goosebumps to rise on his forearms.

 _I’m screwed._ He thought thinking about his reaction to her voice alone.

He opened the door and found her looking at her desktop intently. One of her hands was controlling the mouse while the other had a clickable pen which she had pressed to her lower lip. She had lip gloss on.

He held back a groan and cleared his throat to gather his semblance.

“You wanted to see me, Dr Griffin?” his voice was hoarse but he hoped she couldn’t make it out.

She did.

She hid her smirk behind her hair before schooling her features and turning to him.

Bellamy eyes went to her neck without his permission. He again held back a growl when he saw hints of the marks through Clarke’s makeup that had partially melted away with the day.

He gritted his teeth.

Clarke smirked slightly, pleased by his reaction though oblivious of the knowledge of what was causing it, and said, “Yes, Mr Blake. I was wondering if you would like to handle one of the undergrad classes one of the days next week,” she said with a professional smile, her chair turned to him completely; one palm flat on her desk while the other flicked some hair off her face and therefore, her neck; further baring her marks to Bellamy.

Bellamy’s eyes kept flicking between her neck and her eyes. She was smirking.

_Maybe she did have a good time with the doucheface._

But Bellamy wasn’t going to let that take away the joy of this moment.

“Yes,” he said with a smile, “I would love to.”

Clarke stuttered.

_Oh, crap._

_Now what?_

She’d thought that he’d reject after which she could bait him into telling her whatever had been going on with him.

_Oh, well._

She knew what she was about to do was a cheap shot. But a girl’s gotta do something.

“Also,” she said as she reached down her drawer to pull out some files, “Can you please take these to Professor Rose, please?”

Bellamy was stunned. “What?” he asked thinking he’d misheard her.

“Can you take these files to Professor Rose’s residence, please? He asked for them to correct some assignments,” Clarke said, an innocent look on her face.

Bellamy could barely keep it together now.

“Why don’t you ask his TA to do it? Or an intern?” he asked, his tone terse.

“His TA is on leave and the interns have all gone home. Besides, don’t you love going to professors’ residences to personally give them their notes?” Clarke asked, knowing it was a low blow.

Bellamy’s jaw dropped.

_What’s going on with her?_

My _Clarke doesn’t speak this way._

Looking at his reaction, her smirk grew wider.

Realization hit Bellamy in that moment.

_She’s trying to bait me._

_Well, two can play this game._

_You’re trying to be subtle. I’ll be anything but._

Bellamy looked down before looking back up at her with a sweet smile. He said, “No, I don’t,” flirtatiously.

He came closer to her desk and leaned in only so little.

“I only do that for _my_ Professor.”

He saw Clarke’s façade drop a little as her breath hitched.

“I – uh,” Clarke stammered.

“Why don’t you ask me whatever it is you want to ask me, _Dr Griffin_?” he asked, calling her name like it was a taunt; a taunt at the heaven and earth worth of difference between their so-called “professional” relationship and their behavior around each other that entire day being anything but professional. Professional relations don’t involve swiveling hips in their colleague’s faces or seeking someone out to bait them.

Bellamy smirked this time when he saw Clarke’s resolve crack for good. She wasn’t good as hustling people.

She kept her eyes locked on him; the man who had become a huge part of what she thought about in a day, who had cared enough to be kind and decent to her, who she was clearly developing a crush on.

_Wait, what?_

_There was no crush!_

The revelation itself was so mind boggling, that she basically vomited the next words, “Why have you been avoiding me, Bellamy?” her eyes widening as she realized that this was the first time she used his first name.

Bellamy’s smirk disappeared as well, his face changing into something resembling a sweet surrender. His gaze moving from her eyes to her lips which had just said his name in that beautiful voice. God, he wanted to hear it again, already.

His gaze remained locked on her lips as he leaned in closer.

Clarke’s eyes widened as she saw Bellamy lean closer to her, but for the love of God, she couldn’t bring herself to move a muscle. Her eyes, too, moved between his eyes and lips, before settling at the latter. His scent enveloped her and she couldn’t help but get as much of it in as she could; a deep desire to let it wrap around her and allow herself to drown in it.

Bellamy kept on leaning in till his face was inches away from hers. Bellamy let his eyes roam around her whole body, at least as much was visible to him. He enjoyed knowing he had an effect on her.

Clarke’s pupils were blown wide, her cheeks were pink, and her breathing was heavy. Bellamy was enjoying watching her chest come up and go down as she breathed. But most of all, he liked the way her gaze was fixed on his lips, refusing to move.

He smirked, leaned in ever so little and taunted, “Wouldn’t you like to know, Clarke?” he said emphasizing her name as if letting her know that her name itself was a turn-on for him.

Clarke’s gaze snapped up to his and her breath hitched. She watched as Bellamy straightened up, said, “Good day, Dr Grffin,” and walked out.

She sat there trying to get her breathing in control, one thought swimming in her office openly.

_What the fuck just happened?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There you have it!  
> Let me know what you think in the comments. :)


	7. Pink Looks Good on You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clarke is confused.  
> Her friends are not helping.   
> Bellamy is definitely not helping.

To put it simply, Clarke was freaking out.

_I said his name._

_I, Clarke Griffin, said his, Bellamy Blake’s name._

_I. Said. His. Name._

_OUT LOUD._

Yeah.

She was freaking the fuck out.

Clarke was in her apartment. She had no memory of how she’d gotten there. After Bellamy left her office, she was on autopilot, her muscles doing on all the work while her mind was stuck on the way Bellamy’s lips moved as he’d said her name, his scent taking up her personal space, his brown eyes that were almost completely blacked out when he was close to her, gazing at her lips as she gazed at his with lus –

_No!_

_I can’t think like that._

_And I can’t make the same mistake again._

Clarke was determined as she took her car keys and drove off to her best friends’ place.

 

Wells and Raven were enjoying a quiet dinner, talking about their respective days as their each of their foot gave the other a tickle here, a nudge there.

People had wondered how a wild woman like Raven had settled for a tame man like Wells. Wells had heard the same thing from other people, just the sentence turned in his favor. In such circumstances, they both only smiled to whomsoever they were talking to and say, “I didn’t settle for him/her, S/He settled for me.”

Raven’s foot was dangerously closing in on Wells’ clothed crotch when a restless knock replaced the tension that Wells and Raven had created. Wells was good at that; foreplay.

Raven groaned while Wells quietly chuckled.

“Sorry, babe,” he said as he got up. He came to her side, leaned down to give her a quick peck and said, “Don’t worry; I’ll make it up to you tonight.”

He moved away to answer the door.

“You better, Jaha. I’m not letting you sleep for anything less than three,” Raven said to his retreating figure.

“Whoa, getting old, Reyes? Because I’m not letting you sleep till at least five,” Wells smirked at her over her shoulder just as he opened the door.

He smiled at Clarke just as she said, “Please, tell me you were talking about number of beers you guys are going to have,” she came inside.

“Hello, to you too, Clarke,” Wells closed the door and walked behind her, gently putting his hands on her shoulder and placing a dry kiss on the back of her head.

“If you must know, Griffin, we are going to have something later, just not beer,” Raven shrugged innocently, the smirk on her face anything but.

“Ugh,” Clarke grimaced. “I do not need to know about your sex life. Everything you told me about Wells after the first time you guys had sex is still fresh in my memory. That’s bad enough.”

“Hey, ouch!” Wells said.

Clarke shrugged.

Raven rolled her eyes.

“There’s some leftover quesadillas, if you want,” Raven said. She saw Clarke opening her mouth to say something but before she could get anything out she interrupted Clarke, “Don’t worry. Wells made them,” she looked at Clarke with a mock glare.

Clarke joined her hands in front of her chest stiffly and nodded at Wells with a smile. While Wells went to the kitchen to get Clarke her plate of food, Clarke and Raven cleared out the dinner table.

“I’m sorry I interrupted date night,” she said, only partially contrite. She had an all access pass to her best friends’ place. She knew that. They’d made it known to her, multiple times.

“No, you’re not. And do I have to tell you that you don’t have to think before coming here? Come on, CG, you’re our BFF!” Raven said.

“Thanks, but why are you talking like that?” Clarke asked, looking at Raven dubiously.

“Is Clarke saying sorry for interrupting us and is Raven using ridiculous abbreviations again?” Wells asked Raven and then Clarke to have both the women nod at him.

“Clarke, you’re an idiot and I love you, but I don’t need to remind you that you’re always welcome here because I’m _sure_ , Raven did that already. And Raven picked up speaking in abbreviations because of Jasper and Maya,” he said, “You should’ve seen her a few nights ago, she dirty talked with me in abbreviations. I couldn’t even understand most of them except one,” he said shuddering before throwing a dirty smirk at Raven.

“Yeah, you did,” Raven said seductively, swaying her shoulders sexily at Wells.

“In that case, I’m glad I wasn’t here a few nights ago,” Clarke said breaking the tension again, taking the plate from Wells’ hand and taking her seat on their couch.

“What’s going on, bub? You seem…disturbed,” Raven said.

Wells went to his _Protect Clarke Mode_ and asked, “Did someone touch you without your permission?”

Clarke wanted to talk to Wells and Raven about Bellamy. But when Wells brought up ‘being touched by someone’, Clarke immediately thought about the _other thing_ that had happened. She wanted to tell Wells, but she knew there was no point because nothing could be done about it. _He_ came from a powerful family. That was enough to save his ass. She scoffed inwardly.

_Bellamy is so much better than_ him _though._

Her mind provided uselessly. She couldn’t control the groan that left her.

“What is it, Clarke?” Raven asked.

“It’s nothing. It’s just – It’s my stupid TA,” Clarke grumbled as she took a bite of the quesadilla. “This is really good,” she told Wells with a full mouth.

“What about your TA?” Wells asked ignoring her complement. He knew he was a good cook. He cared more about Clarke in that moment.

“Nothing! He’s amazing! And ridiculously handsome, God, I feel like shaving his head sometimes so that I won’t have to see his stupidly perfect curls just flying about his face,” Clarke scowled. “And he’s thoughtful! So thoughtful! I’d taken a few days leave last weekend and he came to my place to drop a few notes that I’d requested,” she said looking between Raven and Wells, “I mean,” she laughed, “Who does that?”

Raven looked at Clarke like she was crazy as she went on fawning over her TA. She slyly leant slightly towards Wells and whispered to him, “Has she lost her mind?”

Wells only shook his head furiously in an _I don’t know_ while he had a matching facial expression as Raven’s.

“Clarke, it sounds like you _like_ your TA,” Raven started only to have Clarke blow up.

“I do not like him!” she exclaimed.

Wells and Raven sighed.

“Does your denial have anything to do with the fact that he’s an Alpha?” Wells asked.

“At first, but now, I think that he could be a good guy, but it doesn’t matter,” Clarke said. “And I’m not in denial.”

“Yes, you are. If you weren’t, that would've been the first thing you would’ve pointed out,” Wells said. He knew Clarke inside out.

Clarke sighed. “I really don’t, Wells. I don’t like him; that I’m sure of. But I don’t know,” Clarke whined. “He confuses me,” she said.

“Confuses you, how?” Raven asked.

“He just, he – Ugh,” Clarke ran a hand over her face. “He makes me...feel things,” she said after thinking about it for a minute.

“Good things?” Wells asked with a hint of smile on his face as he sat down next to Clarke.

“Weird things,” Clarke answered honestly. “Things I haven’t felt before.”

“Weird things,” Wells repeated slowly. “That’s Clarke for _I’m falling in love_ , Holy shitmunks! Griff! You’re in love!” he smothered her in a side hug.

He ignored Clarke’s protests against his neck till Raven said, “Hey, loser, let my best friend go.”

“Aww, she was my best friend first,” he said still dazed about Clarke’s feelings.

He let her go once he saw the very real glare on Raven’s face.

Clarke adjusted herself in her seat, uncaring of the fact that her hair was messed up, thanks to Wells. Wells stroked her hair into place while Clarke went back to eating when Raven spoke, “My partner can be a real numbskull sometimes, but he seems to be right, Clarke.”

“Rae,” Clarke started when Raven interrupted and said, “And I know this because you haven’t stopped blushing since you started talking about this guy. Who is he? What’s his name? What’s the shape of his ass?” she asked, ignoring the mock glare from Wells.

“His name is Bellamy and I am leaving because you guys aren’t any help,” Clarke said going into to the kitchen to drop her empty plate in the sink.

She was walking towards the door when she heard Raven yell, “But you didn’t tell me the shape of his ass!” followed by Wells growl, “I’ll show you the shape of _my_ ass.”

Their loud laughter filled the hallway and Clarke smiled to herself. Her best friends were ridiculous but she loved them.

But they hadn’t been any help, so she went to the next best place.

Monty’s place.

She knocked once, but no one answered. She tried turning the doorknob and saw that it was unlocked. She slowly entered the apartment, “Hey M” –

She was interrupted by the sight of Monty rigorously bouncing on top of another man.

“Fuck yeah,” the man under Monty groaned.

“Oh! My God!” Clarke screamed as she turned around on the spot.

“ _Oh! My God!_ ” Monty screamed followed by _Fuck_ , probably from his companion.

“I didn’t see anything,” Clarke quickly said, frozen on the spot.

“Knock, Clarke!” Monty yelled.

“I did! You didn’t answer!” she screamed back.

Monty groaned and asked her to wait out there while he and his companion went to the bedroom to put some clothes on.

Ten minutes later, both of them emerged from the bedroom, probably showered, the only thing giving that away was Monty’s wet hair as opposed to his partner’s shaved head.

“Why are you still standing, Clarke?” Monty asked.

“Oh, no, thanks. But I’m never sitting on that couch again, no offence,” she said cringing. “God, that image is branded in my brain.”

Monty rolled his eyes.

His companion coughed.

“Right, Clarke Griffin, meet Nathan Miller, my, uh,” Monty stuttered.

“Boyfriend,” Miller finished looking at Monty fondly, stretching his arm to Clarke. “Don’t worry, I washed my hands, I’m a clean-freak, unlike this heathen,” he joked.

Clarke shook his hand and she noticed a tinge of pink bloom on Monty’s face.

She smiled, “It’s nice to meet you.”

“Likewise,” Miller said, “Pardon me, but are you the same Clarke Griffin who teaches Art History?” he asked.

Clarke nodded.

“No kidding,” Miller said in wonder. “Bellamy’s my best friend,” he said.

Clarke’s eyes widened. “Oh,” she said.

“What a small world,” Miller smiled.

“Indeed, it is,” Clarke tried not to grit her teeth.

“Bellamy talks about you a lot,” he said.

That caused Clarke’s eyes to widen further.

Monty mock coughed and asked, “Didn’t you say that you’re covering a shift at the bar tonight?”

“Okay, I can take a hint,” he said to Monty slyly. “It was nice to meet you, Clarke.”

“I’ll see you later?” Miller asked Monty as he leaned in for a quick kiss and then he left.

Clarke liked him and watched him leave with a smile, oblivious to the way Monty stood in front of her, arms crossed in front of his chest with a glare on his face.

“So, you interrupted mind-blowing sex because you have the hots for Nathan’s best friend?” he asked.

“What?! No, I don’t,” Clarke defended rather poorly.

“Please,” Monty scoffed. “You were practically drooling when Nate told you that Bellamy’s his best friend.”

Clarke bit her lip. “Have you met him?” she asked slowly.

“Bellamy? Yeah, I have. Nate literally has only two best friends, so,” Monty said.

Clarke wanted to ask more, but didn’t know how without sounding desperate.

Monty noticed. “You know, he’s right. He does talk about you a lot.”

Clarke’s eyes snapped at him.

“You’ve heard him talk about me? Does he know we’re friends?” Clarke asked, unable to keep the eagerness out of her voice.

“Yes, I’ve heard him talk about you and no, he doesn’t know we’re friends. That’s only because he never took your name. I always happened to enter in the middle of a conversation when he’s always referring to you as _she_ or _her_ ,” he said.

“What does he say?” Clarke asked in a timid voice.

Monty smiled, “Why don’t you tell me what you’re here to say?” he asked as he dropped onto the couch.

“I wanted to talk about Bellamy!” she exclaimed.

“Okay, what about him?” he asked.

“I don’t know! He seems so, so – Ugh,” she grunted.

“Yeah, I understand everything now,” Monty deadpanned.

“He…makes me feel things – weird things,” Clarke said.

“Oh, your problem’s solved,” Monty shrugged. “That’s Clarke for _I’m falling in love_ ,” he repeated Wells’ words which only bothered Clarke more.

“I am not in love with him!” Clarke yelled.

“Sure, you’re not,” he said making Clarke grumble.

“Since none of you are being of literally any help, I’m going to see myself out,” Clarke said.

“Any of us? Wells and Raven said the same thing?” Monty asked.

At Clarke’s begrudging silence, he smirked and said, “Knew it. You’re in _love_ , Griffin,” Monty teased.

“Judging from what I witnessed earlier, so are you, Monty,” Clarke said as she closed the door behind her.

 

The next morning, Clarke walked towards her office, dressed in a baby pink blouse, coffee brown skirt, and matching brown shoes, murmuring to herself in soft shallow breaths. “It’s fine. You’ll be fine. Just ignore him. And whatever happens, remember, his name is Mr Blake,” she gritted.

Determined to not let the opportunity arise, Clarke went on her way.

 

Bellamy was surprised when he heard Clarke take his name. He’d been so surprised that he couldn’t even find it in him to pull her leg in that moment; tease her that she’d actually noticed that he’d been avoiding her. It sent pleasant sparks across his body to know that his absence had an effect on her. Maybe it meant that he meant something to her. He didn’t know what, yet. But he was willing to wait and work to find out.

But his name on her lips.

_Oh God._ She’d been so quick in saying it, that it felt like a butterfly fluttering right before one’s eyes before vanishing; the sensation leaving the individual in a wild frenzy. He wanted to make her say his name again.

But he also had Clarke Griffin figured out, at least on the surface level. Of course, he didn’t know any personal or intimate details about her, but that didn’t mean that Bellamy was foreign to the fact that Clarke Griffin was a stubborn woman.

And Bellamy had said her name.

Judging by her reaction, she had liked it.

Maybe.

Possibly.

Bellamy wasn’t sure.

_God, why does she have to be so difficult?_

But there was one thing Bellamy was quite sure about. If he was right about her, she wasn’t going to say his name out loud consciously again. He was willing to bet on this.

While this thought was saddening, the fact that Bellamy got to see the effect he’d had on her; the heavy breathing, the pinked cheeks, dilated pupils; he loved it. He wanted to watch her in such a stat again.

But he was unwilling to see her in that state without her consent. He wanted her to want it too. He didn’t want to witness Clarke unravel herself in front of him with whatever inhibitions she had. He wanted her to know that she was beautiful, intelligent, and kind. But most importantly, he wanted her to know that she was worth it. She was enough.

Truth be told, he didn’t have a plan of action prepared for the day.

He wanted to see the way in which Clarke would react to him and his presence around her. If she wouldn’t freak out, he could maybe flirt a little. If she was perturbed, he’d respect her wishes and back off.

But Bellamy couldn’t find in him to blame himself for wishing the former.

He knocked on the office door.

“Come in,” came her soft voice.

He smiled despite himself, like being around her was good enough for him.

He entered the room making her raise her head in his direction. He flashed her a genuine smile which she returned with only a small one.

_Yep._

_Sounds about right._

_Professional mode: ON._

He cleared his throat, “Good morning, Dr Griffin,” Bellamy greeted her.

A lovely blush spread through her face down to her neck, which made Bellamy smile. He kinda wished that one day he could see her out of clothes when he makes her blush, just to see how far it could spread.

Clarke straightened her shoulders and pulled on the collar of her baby pink blouse, her fingers looking for something to fiddle with. It had nothing to do with the way Bellamy was looking at her. She couldn’t even tell in what way he was looking at her, because she was avoiding his eyes. His presence, alone, was enough to remind her of the warm feeling in her chest and the throb in her crotch that she’d felt the last time they were together in the same room.

She cleared her throat to get rid of the tightness that was building. “Mr Blake," Clarke started.  

_Bingo._  Bellamy thought.

"Yes, good morning. Aren’t you – Don’t you have any thesis work to do today?” Clarke asked as she turned to him.

_Nice try, Clarke._ Bellamy thought.

He gave her a sweet smile.

_Not the smile, please._ Clarke inwardly begged.

“No,” he said. “You said something about me handling classes, I wanted to know when I can start making the lesson plans; under your _supreme_ guidance, of course,” Bellamy said, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

“Right, the classes,” Clarke looked at the papers scattered on her desk, anything to not look at him. “Well, there’s still time for that, so if you want, you – You can work on your thesis, while I – uh – I – ahem – I find an empty slot for you to fill,” Clarke grimaced at the choice of her words.

Bellamy almost smirked but he could tell that Clarke was fidgeting because of his presence. And she’d brought up him working on his thesis, twice now. He didn’t want to be in the room if she didn’t want to be there. He’d never do anything to make her uncomfortable.

But that didn’t mean that he couldn’t have _some_ fun.

He smiled professionally. “Of course, you’re right. If you don’t need my help, I’ll be out of your way. But first,” he said as he stepped closer to her desk. He watched to see if Clarke would tense up. Luckily, she didn’t.

“Can I please have some samples of lesson plans so that I can familiarize myself with the format, Dr Griffin?” Bellamy asked.

Clarke held her breath when she saw Bellamy step closer to her desk; the movement causing some intense memories to flood back in her brain.

She turned to her right to bend and fish out two samples of lesson plans from her desk drawer. She extended her arm to hand them to him but didn’t stretch it to its full capacity. Bellamy had to step closer and lean in to take the samples from her, giving a whiff of his scent.

By the looks of it, he knew what she was unconsciously doing.

Bellamy smirked when he saw the way Clarke’s breathing changed from normal to heavy.

_Maybe she can smell my scent._

He also highly appreciated the blush that darkened on her face; it was due to the proximity and his scent, he thought.

He straightened after he took the samples from her grip. “Thank you, Dr Griffin. Please, email me if you need me,” he said and opened the door to leave.

Right before he skipped out, he turned to her and said, “By the way, Dr Griffin, with all due respect,” he said seriously, “Pink really is your color.”

He left before he could see the pink turn into red on the creamy white skin he dreamed about.

Clarke, on the other hand, couldn’t figure out whether he was talking about her blouse or the blush on her cheeks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There you have it!   
> Let me know what you think in the comments. :)


	8. Beware of the Boogeyman

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Someone's back. (Not me, someone else)  
> Not a lot of Bellarke, but some. 
> 
>  
> 
> Yay! I'm back!

Clarke was walking towards her office with purpose. There was an upcoming international seminar to be held at the university and she was on the organizing committee. She was just finalizing some of the names of the various delegates to be invited when she hear someone talking at a distance. It was Dr Cartwig.

She looked well enough but there was a tense look on her face, like she was distressed about something. Clarke was tempted to go ask after her. Cece was nice and conversation with her wasn’t painful as it was with so many others.

Clarke went her way.

 

Bellamy was just entering the building holding two cups of coffee when he saw Dr Cartwig standing by the reception talking intensely to the person manning the reception with a stiff look on her face.

“Good morning, Dr Cartwig,” he greeted with a professional smile.

“Good morning, Mr Blake,” Cartwig replied, the stiff look barely leaving her face as she struggled to smile at him.

“Is everything alright?” Bellamy asked good naturedly.

“Yes, fine,” she answered. Quickly, she turned to the receptionist, bid her farewell, turned on her heels and walked away.

“What the hell was that about?” Bellamy muttered under his breath.

“Cage fucking Wallace is back. That’s what that was about, honey,” the receptionist replied while casually chewing gum, a scowl on her face.

And from his previous yet nonexistent encounter with Cage Wallace, Bellamy could deduce that the scowl was somehow justified.

Bellamy didn’t know Wallace at all. Heck, he didn’t even know what the guy looked like. All he’d heard was that he was the chair of Art History at the university. Besides that, there were no public accolades the guy had. The only other thing that he was known for was being the son of the very popular businessman, Dante Wallace.

So, Bellamy had nothing concrete to go on when it came to forming an opinion on Wallace Junior. But even then, his gut clenched the wrong way in his mention since his name took him back to the day Clarke had visited his office and had come out looking disturbed.

Bellamy took his thoughts and walked towards his destination.

Clarke looked up when the door to her office opened and in walked Bellamy with a huge smile on his face and two cups of coffee in his hands.

Warmth spread across her chest when he extended one of the two coffees towards her and greeted her. She returned the greeting while trying not to focus on the fact that Bellamy had actually brought her some coffee. Clarke knew from experience that being a doctoral candidate was as handful as anything else. Research was a word that sounded cool but actually doing it was mentally taxing. It wasn’t an easy road. She remembered being cranky for the four years of her PhD, finally smiling more once she had submitted her thesis. So, she wasn’t unaware that to be able to take a detour from visiting his supervisor, Bellamy must be walking on ice.

Just then, Bellamy spoke.

“Just thought I’d bring you your morning coffee.”

“Yes, thank you. Are you on your way to see your supervisor now?” Clarke asked to seem partially invested; he was her TA after all, while maintaining her professionalism.

 “No no, not until much later. I just needed to talk to Dr Cartwig first. There were some queries that I needed to clarify with her,” he paused. “I actually ran into her this morning, but before I could say anything, she left.”

Clarke’s brows furrowed. “Why is that?”

“Don’t know. The only thing I got was that apparently Cage Wallace is back,” Bellamy said, the words meaning nothing to him.

Clarke froze.

He was back?

How?

She thought that Dr Cartwig had replaced him for good.

She shook from her thoughts and looked up to see Bellamy watching her intently.

“Well, welcome back to him,” she said nonchalantly. “Is there anything else, Mr Blake?” Clarke asked, acutely aware of her use of his last name. Funnily, she couldn’t even bring herself to be warm to the guy she somewhat was interested in. Not when she’d heard what she just did.

“No, Dr Griffin. That’s all,” Bellamy said stoically and wished her goodbye for the day.

_Yeah, something was definitely up with this Cage dude._

 

Bellamy left Clarke’s office to make his way to the university football ground. The bleacher had the best WiFi range.

He found a cozy spot at the bleacher where the Sun wasn’t hitting him too strong and he could sit with his legs stretched out. He plugged in his earphones and got to work.

He was working on his methodology for what seemed like a decade.

The drama queen, it had only been two hours.

He thought of working for another couple hours but for now, he needed a much deserved break. He removed his earphones and dropped them on his laptop carelessly.

He placed his laptop on the ground and got up to stretch his sore legs and back.

Yeah, he definitely needed a break.

He was contemplating getting himself a cup of coffee and a snack from the cafeteria when he heard a sniffle from behind the bleacher. He turned around to see a girl leaning her back against the fence behind the bleacher sitting on the ground, her knees to her chest and her face in her hands, her shoulders shaking softly. She was crying.

Bellamy felt awkward. He wanted to console her but didn’t want to seem like a creep who watched as girls cried in front of him.

He didn’t know what to do.

Just as he mentally said _fuck it_ and was about to climb down the bleacher to approach the girl, her phone rang.

Bellamy quickly sat back down and plugged in the earphones without actually playing anything on it. If his preoccupation could provide the girl some privacy to talk to someone, then he would fake fucking listen to music like it’s his business. He even got his laptop back in position and noticed subtly that the girl was also looking at him, probably confirming that he was indeed not paying any attention to her.

“Hello?” the girl spoke into the phone.

“Yeah. I’m fine. I’m just under the bleacher.” Bellamy was surprised she was being honest. _She must be talking to a friend._

“Yeah, I feel better. A little, at least.”

“No, I’m not alone.”

“I don’t know, some guy.”

“No, he can’t hear me, he’s been working on something and has had his earphones in since I came here. Chill.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m not gonna report him dude!”

“Because he’s the fucking chair of Art History! I can’t!”

Bellamy stopped breathing.

They were talking about Cage.

“I know what he did was horrible, I don’t need to be reminded, I was there, remember?”

Just then, at a distance the girl and Bellamy got distracted by the sound of the bell going off.

“Shoot, I’ve already missed a class, can’t miss this one too, gotta go. Later.”

Bellamy quickly took a look at her and registered her appearance before she took off.

It didn’t make any sense that students would pry into the business of chairs of any departments. Something had to have been fishy for her to have known Cage.

And everything he’d heard about Cage from various females at the university was enough to go on for now.

 

Clarke stood in front of Cage’s office. She did not want to be there.

But the funds for the seminar were coming up short. Her trustee students and interns were still working on getting some sponsors, but they needed to have some backup. A request had to be made to the management of the university to set aside some amount _in case_ the amount came up to be less than required.

Unfortunately, that request could only be made by the chair of the department organizing the seminar.

So, here she was.

She cleared her throat and knocked on the door. She took the bored ‘hmm’ from the inside to mean ‘come in’ and opened the door.

“Ah, Clarke,” Cage said with an unnerving glint in his eyes, “It’s so good to see you again.”

_Not for me._

“Cage, I don’t have much time and neither could you, so, I’ll make it quick. We need funds from the university for the upcoming seminar. I have people still working the sponsors, this is just insurance in case we come up short,” Clarke said.

“You need me to talk to management to provide the department with money for the seminar?” Cage asked looking like he was concocting something.

“Yes, that’s correct,” Clarke said stoically.

“Hmm, and what am I to get in return for this favor that I do for you?” Cage asked with a smirk on his face.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that if I am to defend the need for this useless seminar in front of the tight-assed people at management, I should be getting something for it, don’t you think?

Clarke sighed. She so didn’t have time for this.

“No, Cage. I don’t think so. First of all, you aren’t doing me a favor, as much as you’re doing yourself a favor. You’ve been absent during the planning of this seminar, you haven’t participated in any of the areas that the seminar will be covering; you don’t even know the delegates that _your_ faculty has chosen to invite to this seminar. So by talking to management to arrange for funds, you’d quite frankly be doing yourself a favor. At least, this _useless_ seminar would look good on your very thin list of achievements, don’t you think?”

Cage’s smirk had vanished and a scowl had taken its place instead.

“You seem to have forgotten how to treat your superiors Griffin. Maybe you need a reminder,” Cage snarled.

Nope. Not again.

Not ever again.

Clarke smirked. “Good job, keep up that attitude while talking to management. At least, you’ll be able to intimidate them into funding us, because no one else is going to fall for your damn tricks, Cage.”

Cage stood up suddenly to say something when Clarke interrupted.

“Besides, wasn’t it you who told me that you _love_ dealing with tight-assed people?”

Cage looked at her with wide eyes and said, “You think you’ve won, but just you wait, Griffin,”

“Don’t threaten me, Wallace. I underestimated just how vile and disgusting you actually were but now, I know, so don’t think that _you’ve_ won. One word is all it would take to let the world know of what you did.”

“You can’t prove anything!” Cage screamed, almost afraid.

“Maybe, but I won’t need to. Reputation is more important than anything else anyway. And you wouldn’t want something to tarnish your perfectly good name, now, would you?”

Cage remained silent.

“That’s what I thought. Get this done, be of some use,” Clarke said and left the office.

She was never going to let Cage be her Boogeyman.

She was going to make sure she would be his.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There you have it!   
> Thank you for putting up with me being AWOL.   
> Let me know what you think in the comments. :)

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoy it!


End file.
